Womanhood

The symptoms are there . . . I'm tense, I look as if I'm three months pregnant, and I feel like my back-side weighs 50 pounds. I know my "monthly time" is nearby. That's okay, though. I'd rather be HAVING it than NOT having it. If I weren't having it, that would mean that I was either pregnant, or post-menopause. And I wouldn't want to experience either of those conditions at this point in my life. So I'm perfectly content in experiencing a little discomfort and inconvenience for a few days each month.

Finding out about entering womanhood is a memory forever etched in my mind. You know how we always remember where we were when we heard about a major event? Like when the space shuttle exploded, I was at work and one of my co-workers who was watching the launch on television came out of his office to tell us about the explosion. And when I found out about John Lennon being shot, I was at my high school. Well, when I found out about womanhood, I was in my bedroom (which was decorated with bright floral drapes and bedspreads - it was the early '70's). I can still remember where I was sitting. My two older sisters had taken it upon themselves to tell me all about growing from a child into a young woman. However, they only told me "part" of the story. These are their exact words, "when your b_ _ bs get bigger, you have to start wearing these" (and they were holding up a maxi pad). It was kind of like "show and tell". That's it. That's all they told me. And I suppose I was in too much of a shock to ask any questions. I don't remember anything else about that fateful afternoon.

Okay, so I then knew that when my breasts got larger, I had to start wearing pads. I'm a fairly smart person so I deducted from my sisters' information that I had to stuff the pads down my shirt. They didn't tell me WHERE I had to start wearing the pads, just that I had to start wearing them. So for the next year or so, waiting for my breasts to grow, I would discreetly look at older girls and women to see if I could tell if they were wearing a pad underneath their shirt. Surprisingly to me, I never could tell which really made me feel better because I was concerned that everyone would be able to see the pads.

As time passed, my sisters never mentioned the subject again (and I certainly didn't ask). So I went until I actually entered womanhood thinking that maxi pads were stuffed down your shirt when your breasts grew larger. Needless to say, when I did enter womanhood, I immediately deduced where the pads went.

Several decades later, my sisters and I still laugh about this. This clearly shows that it's always best to tell the WHOLE truth.